But still I wanted, and waited for, with humble patience, and made it part of my constant prayers, that the divine Grace would at last touch his heart, and make him more than a countenancer, more than an applauder of my duties; that he might for his own dear sake, become a partaker in them.  “And then,” thought I, “when we can, hand in hand, heart in heart, one spirit as well as one flesh, join in the same closet, in the same prayers and thanksgiving, what a happy creature shall I be.”

I say, closet:  for I durst not aspire so high, as to hope the favour of his company among his servants, in our Sunday devotions.—­I knew it would be going too far, in his opinion, to expect it from him.  In me their mistress, had I been ever so high-born, it was not amiss, because I, and they, every one of us, were his; I in one degree, Mr. Longman in another, Mrs. Jervis in another—­But from a man of his high temper and manner of education, I knew I could never hope for it, so would not lose every thing, by grasping at too much.

But in the midst of all these comfortable proceedings, and my further charming hopes, a nasty masquerade threw into his way a temptation, which for a time blasted all my prospects, and indeed made me doubt my own head almost.  For, judge my disappointment, when I found all my wishes frustrated, all my prayers rendered ineffectual; his very morality, which I had flattered myself, in time, I should be an humble instrument to exalt into religion, shocked, and in danger; and all the work to begin over again, if offended Grace should ever again offer itself to the dear wilful trespasser!

But who should pretend to scrutinize the councils of the Almighty?—­for out of all this evil appearance was to proceed the real good, I had been so long, and so often, supplicating for!

The dear man was to be on the brink of relapsing:  it was proper, that I should be so very uneasy, as to assume a conduct not natural to my temper, and to raise his generous concern for me:  and, in the very crisis, divine Grace interposed, made him sensible of his danger, made him resolve against his error, before it was yet too late:  and his sliding feet, quitting the slippery path he was in, collected new strength, and he stood the firmer and more secure for his peril.

For having happily put a stop to that affair, and by his uniform conduct, for a considerable time, shewed me that I had nothing to apprehend from it, he was pleased, when we were last at Tunbridge, and in very serious discourse upon divine subjects, to say to this effect:  “Is there not, my Pamela, a text, That the unbelieving husband shall be saved by the believing wife, whilst he beholds her chaste conversation coupled with fear?”

“I need not tell you, my dear Mr. B., that there is, nor where it is.”

“Then, my dear, I begin to hope, that will be my case; for, from a former affair, of which this spot of ground puts me more in mind, I see so much reason to doubt my own strength, which I had built, and, as I thought securely, on moral foundations, that I must look out for a better guide to conduct me, than the proud word honour can be, in the general acceptance of it among us lively young gentlemen.